Tabitha Chirrick - Overshadowed

“Trouble?” Fehn whispered.

Tayel shook her head. She had climbed plenty of urban architecture in Delta’s worn down undercity streets. It wasn’t the climb, but the memory that slowed her. She placed her foot in the bracket, stepped up, and grabbed another one, each movement as simple as climbing a ladder. One bracket at a time, she made steady progress up the building until Shy gave her a hand onto the roof.

Enormous crystals jutted out and over the square space, providing an angle of shadow — and cover. The Varg gathered at the edge of the roof facing the street. One set up the radio tech that would draw Rokkir attention, while the two who would act as bait received silent encouragement from their kin. She caught sight of Jace near the rest of the Varg. He watched her, eye ridges low with worry.

Fehn joined Tayel and Shy, unfastening his gas mask from his belt. He waved it in the air. Tayel obliged, unhooking hers as well even as her fingers trembled. She took a steadying breath. She’d be fine; she had Fehn and Shy to… Anger built up at the thought of relying on them. She had to pull her weight this time, from start to finish.

The Varg with the radio tech waved once, and Tayel shuddered. It was a clear signal that sent the two lures running toward the drain pipe without hesitation. They disappeared over the edge of the roof as Balcruf signaled for everyone to lie low. Tayel complied, keeping near the drain pipe with Fehn and Shy, watching the narrow view of street she had for any sign of Rokkir patrols. Her pulse throbbed in her ears.

The two young Varg acted as though they searched in the open, moving from one building to the next. Agonizing seconds passed. Tayel tried not to even breathe in the quiet. The fake patrol started to near the edge of what she could see. She sat up a bit.

A medium-sized cargo carrier edged into view beside the roof. Tayel froze. There hadn’t been the whisper of an engine, or the whine of an electric drive. Not even a shift in the wind hinted the Rokkir patrol’s presence. The Varg below wouldn’t have to act surprised at all. The vessel slid forward through the air, perfectly center over the street and silent as space. Tayel pressed down the desire to yell, to shout for the Varg to run. This was part of the plan. They would be okay. She just had to do her job, and they would be okay.

The two lures had just the time to yelp before the underside of the ship let loose a plume of yellow-brown gas. It hit the ground heavy like water, cascading outward to fill the nearby alleys ten feet high. It swirled below like murky brown clouds, and the ship descended silently into the haze.

“Now,” Shy whispered, and she jumped to a stand.

Tayel hurried to follow, heart hammering as she pulled the mask down over her face. She hadn’t missed how these things smelled or how they narrowed her view, but she pulled the straps tight and ran to the edge of the roof behind Fehn. He slid down the pipe after Shy, and Tayel followed, landing at the bottom on her feet.

The gas was thick — thicker than anything she’d experienced back home. She could barely see Fehn an arm’s reach away, and Shy was nowhere to be found, probably already offing the ship’s pilot. She expected screams or the sounds of combat, but that same silence as before lingered.

Fehn tiptoed toward the city street. Tayel followed, feeling along the alley wall with her hand to familiarize her position. She activated her shield bracer before bringing her mag baton off of its sheath. Even its etchings didn’t glow bright enough to shine through the haze.

She slid her fingers off the wall, keeping Fehn’s silhouette in sight as she inched toward where the ship would have landed. He kept right, shotgun at the ready. Every one of Tayel’s senses was on edge as she covered left.

Something scraped along the ground. She stopped. The sound whispered in the haze. It could have been coming from anywhere. She turned her head to listen, and started at the raider’s silhouette dragging a Varg body along the cobblestone only an inch from Fehn. Tayel opened her mouth, but hesitated too long. The raider backed into him and both men whipped around, firing their weapons.

Fehn cried out, but Tayel turned to the sound of hammering footfalls behind her. A raider materialized in the murk and ran into her, letting out a startled cry as they both toppled. Tayel scrambled to a stand, but the other guy moved faster. Her shield cracked at the shot he fired. She ran forward, shield dispersing at the impact of another hit before she swung at his head. Her baton landed with a crunch. The raider reeled back, spare hand gripping at his shattered mask. It came away bloody as he fell, and her stomach soured at the garbled sound he’d made.

“Fehn!” she shouted.

A scuffle sounded ahead, and she stepped forward cautiously, wary of making the same mistake her opponent had. But the ground shuddered beneath her, and a wave of dark aether knocked her down. It pushed the murk aside with its force, leaving Fehn standing alone, his cyonic palm swirling with dark tendrils against the cobblestone. A pair of unmoving raiders laid at his feet. Tayel blinked at the open sky above her.

“Red!” Fehn ran to her. “Are you okay? Did I — did that hurt you?”

“It knocked me down,” she said, willing the tremor out of her voice. “I guess I was standing far enough away that…” She trailed off, eyeing the bodies. “Where’s Shy?”

“Here,” Shy said. She rolled an unconscious raider out of the cargo vessel. “You got rid of the gas?” she asked Fehn. At his nod, she took off her mask and signaled to the group still on the roof. “Handy trick. That speeds this up.”

She looked at Tayel. The desire to say something was plain by the strain on her face, but she tongued her cheek and went back inside the ship instead.

“Help me with this, Red.” Fehn dragged one of the decoy Varg toward the vessel.

“Oh, sure.” She grabbed the Varg’s legs and heaved, shocked by the weight.

“You okay?”

“I got it.”

“I meant with everything else.”

“…I got it.”

The others arrived, proving Tayel and Fehn’s attempts useless. Balcruf slung the Varg they’d been trying to move over his shoulder, while another of his kin found the second decoy. Both young were brought onboard and strapped in, while others ensured the signal jammer was safely stored. Jace made it down from the roof unscathed, but fear etched itself clearly on his face, even as Fehn gave his best go at a cheery greeting. Given the situation, even the effort was impressive. Tayel leaned against the cockpit doorframe, gripping the hold strap overhead.

“Everyone on board?” Balcruf asked.

One of his pack checked outside and nodded.

“Then shut the door.” He moved to the other side of the doorframe as Tayel, and stuck his head inside. “Can you fly it?”

“Engines are on,” Shy said. “Whenever we’re ready.”

“Good. Get us out of here. Another patrol might come.”

Tayel bent her knees for balance as the ship ascended. It angled steeply, and without windows to see out of, it was hard to adjust for direction. Everyone in the hold strained to stay upright as the carrier turned sharply, spiraling a steady path upward.

Balcruf leaned into the cockpit again. “Any tails?”

“Not yet,” Shy said.

Tayel got used to the pull of upward flight, enough that she was able to lean into the small pilot’s area, too. She was just in time to see Shy level out at the same altitude as the mothership before them. Tayel bounced nervously. From the plains below, it had been huge. City-sized, even. But from up here it was monstrous. The intricate details of the ship’s hull were carved deep, each glowing line ebbing back and forth between lighter and darker shades of purple — almost like aether-tech. It seemed impossible they would be able to locate what they were looking for in such a massive structure.